


Origin's Pet

by wickedlupin



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Post-Game(s), two bros...... chillin in the pain void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26341750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedlupin/pseuds/wickedlupin
Summary: Chronos was cold, unfeeling. He cared not for the humans. He cared not for the spirits. They were nothing to him—and yet, impossibly, he cared for Origin. He cared for him so much itached.{Xillia Week Day 7: Resistance}
Relationships: Chronos/Origin (Tales of Xillia)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11
Collections: Tales of Xillia Week





	Origin's Pet

The void was thick, foul, constant. To even exist here was a task in itself. Chronos felt like he was in a never ending state of suffocation, his skin crawling as the dark miasma swirled around him in nonstop motion.

And yet, his companion never uttered a sound of discomfort.

It was infuriating, to be frank. Chronos had spent millennia fighting human and spirit alike, even fighting Origin himself at times, just so that the Great Spirit could finally rest when the humans inevitably failed to complete the trial. And yet, after all his hard work, he had wound up in the void with him, like Origin’s little pet.

Origin didn’t even have the decency to act like he was in pain, even though Chronos knew he was, because _he_ was in pain, burdened by this task. His young, nearly-glowing form merely sat amid the chaos, with the appearance of total contentment.

“You don’t need to put on an act,” Chronos stated, lifting his chin disdainfully.

Origin smiled gently, a hint of a laugh echoing from him. “I am not acting, Chronos.” He spoke slowly, with that quiet affection in his voice. “My burden is heavy, but you have taken some of it from my shoulders. For that, I am grateful to you.”

“Your gratitude is unnecessary. I was working against you, after all.”

Foolish, loving Origin had _wanted_ the humans to win. He had hoped for this outcome, where he continued to endure this pain so that the pitiful humans could continue their impure lives. Chronos knew Origin’s wish, and he chose to fight it anyway. He stacked everything he could against the humans, because even though Origin chose to believe in their goodness, they would never be anything but undeserving of such a generous gift.

When the first Key of Kresnik had appeared, it was a slap in the face. He was doing all of this for Origin, and what had Origin given him in return? An extension of his own powers, specifically to fight against him, to give the humans a better chance at forcing him further into his painful isolation.

Origin seemed amused by Chronos’s words. It was a typical Origin reaction. Chronos’s frown deepened in response.

“Perhaps you were,” Origin mused, “But just as I have been burdened by my love for humans, you, too, have been burdened by your own love, haven’t you, Chronos?”

Chronos’s ear twitched in irritation.

A _burden_ certainly was the best way to describe it. Chronos was cold, unfeeling. He cared not for the humans. He cared not for the spirits. They were nothing to him—and yet, impossibly, he cared for Origin. He cared for him so much it _ached._

Time had never been an obstacle. Chronos could bend it however he wanted. He could manipulate the world’s outcome easily, merely by extending his palm. Hundreds of thousands of years could pass in the blink of an eye, if he simply snapped his fingers.

To properly manipulate humanity’s failure, however, _took_ time. He could not simply jump ahead, it took a painstakingly detailed strategy to keep pushing the humans down where they belonged. In his entire existence, Chronos had never known time to move so _slowly._

Every moment spent away from Origin fueled his imprudent anger.

Loneliness was not supposed to bother Chronos, the Great Spirit of Time. He had no desire for company. When Origin had sealed himself into the void, however, another void of its own had opened up in Chronos’s chest.

When Chronos provided no answer to Origin’s prompting, he reached out with his small, white hand and ran his glowing fingers through the ends of Chronos’s long hair. He brought the ends to his mouth, and smiled again.

“I have always felt your love, Chronos. You are included in those I love, as well.”

“Love is a foolish concept,” Chronos refuted coldly.

“And yet, you have chosen to join me here, to assist in the soul purification process. Speaking from experience, I know that is not a decision that is made without love.”

“I hold no love for the humans. They have barely gained my respect,” Chronos diverted.

“I know this,” Origin said softly, and his fingers, not quite solid, passed gently up over his scalp. Chronos, annoyed with himself, leaned into the touch.

“You suffered a long time, for my sake,” Origin whispered to him, “And you continue to now, at my side. Humanity lives on, unaware of what I do for them. Yet you know—you have always recognized my burden, despite your hatred of it. I thank you, Chronos. Your love makes me stronger.”

The void surrounding them was dense and endless. However, the void in Chronos’s chest had filled itself. Though he shared a fate of suffering now, his struggle had ended. The Great Spirit Chronos, the most stubborn spirit, the most spiteful, became docile in Origin’s shadow.

It was despicable, pathetic. And yet, Chronos smiled.


End file.
